


in strange weather

by lost_decade



Category: Formula E RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Feelings, Ficlet, Isolation, M/M, Multi, Quarantine, and general hinted polyamory, kind of mildly post-apocalyptic, some background jeandre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23175169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_decade/pseuds/lost_decade
Summary: "I hate how you always get up before I'm awake." There, he's said it. Sort of. Notthe bed feels cold and empty and I want to be held,but along those lines.
Relationships: Mitch Evans/André Lotterer, Tess Jantschek/James Rossiter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	in strange weather

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Strange Weather by Anna Calvi.
> 
> Entirely inspired by the insta stories of everyone going into lockdown at André's place.

Mitch is getting good at the leaves now, the foamy long-life milk fanning out into the cup, almost as good as André. It's weird how competition creeps in in ways he'd never expected. 

He takes the empty jug over to the sink, rinsing it out, watching through the window at Tess playing with Max, her skin tanned from a summer spent by the pool, her belly starting to fill out more noticeably now. Mitch has told himself it's James' without room for any further thought; he thinks the rest of them probably have too. He's not sure how he feels about having a kid around but then again it's as unreal as everything else that might exist beyond the end of today, the next day, the day after, like he doesn't dare to even dream about this stuff.

He aches to race. It feels like his muscle memory is fading, trying to claw it back on the sim in André's utility room, searching out adrenaline when they take the buggy out round the perimeter of the land. 

It's not the same.

Mitch senses André walk in before he sees him, catching his reflection in the window before he turns around, raising the cup to his lips and blowing the leaf in two. André is barefoot, bare-chested, probably not wearing underwear, judging by how low his jeans sit on his hips. A thin sheen of sweat on his skin from the exertion of chopping up wood round the back of the poolhouse makes Mitch's mouth water. He shifts restlessly from one foot to the other, trying not to stare.  


"I hate how you always get up before I'm awake." There, he's said it. Sort of. Not  _ the bed feels cold and empty and I want to be held _ , but along those lines. Part of the problem is he can't help wondering if he'd be in André's bed at all, if Jev wasn't stuck in Paris.

André frowns, lips parting as if he's about to say something that he then thinks better of, turning away and switching the coffee machine on again, the noise buying him some time - or that's how it always feels to Mitch.

"I've been driving Le Mans." André's voice is quiet, spoken into the latte rather than directly to Mitch, inclining his head towards the games room, "when I can't sleep."

Mitch watches him take a gulp of the coffee, cursing at the temperature.  


"Sometimes I can't sleep."

Mitch nods, trying to think of something reassuring to say but failing when André steps close, wrapping his arms around him and lifting him up onto the kitchen worktop.  


The stone is cold on Mitch's thighs where his shorts ride up. He leans into André's embrace, opening his mouth for a kiss, melting into the solid heat of his arms, the scent of sweat and the outdoors on his skin making Mitch shiver.

"I'm glad you're here," André admits, resting his chin on Mitch's shoulder, gazing out at the land. 

  
  



End file.
